


Night & Day

by the_forgotten_friend



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Closeted Mickey Milkovich, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Police Officer Ian Gallagher, Police Officer Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-07-08 22:45:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19877299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_forgotten_friend/pseuds/the_forgotten_friend
Summary: After a stint in LA, Ian Gallagher comes home to join Chicago PD Homicide.He's partnered with Officer Mickey Milkovich, finally back from suspension.His lieutenant hopes a decent partner will help smooth out his rough edges.





	1. Chapter 1

It was weird to be a cop at home.

In LA, he'd been a stranger. It was easy to look at things with the necessary detachment that homicide called for. Sure, some of the bad ones still got to him, but he could push it aside. As he buttoned his shirt, he sent a quick prayer to whatever deity was listening to give him strength for the day. 

He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, trying and somewhat failing to tame the fiery locks. It may be time for a haircut. The door to the small locker room slammed open, and he would be a liar if he said he didn't jump. 

"Don't fuckin' give me that shit!" The newcomer said loudly, talking in to an old flip phone.

Ian felt a stab of sympathy for the person on the other end of that call. 

The man was already pulling on his uniform, holding the phone with his shoulder as he yanked his boots on.

"Look, I don't fuckin' care what your commie girlfriend says, you ain't moving to Florida with my kid." 

Ian hurriedly closed his locker, trying to be as stealthy as possible. Whatever was going on in this guy's life, he for sure didn't want it aimed at him.

As the door closed behind him, he could hear him still ranting through the thick wood.

~~

Lieutenant Jackson was an odd sort. To be the head of the homicide department, she was borderline bubbly. Ian had grown up with her daughter, spending many a summer day with his brother Lip and Karen in the basement of her home, smoking stolen cigarettes and listening to music. She had aged since he last saw her, dark hair now lightly dusted with grey, but she still wore the same motherly smile as she pulled him in for a tight hug.

"I'm so happy to have you here, Ian," she patted his cheek before heading back towards her desk, "I was worried about you out in LA."

He shrugged, a half smile spreading across his face, "If I can survive here with Frank, I can survive anywhere. You don't have to worry about me."

She gave him a small grin, almost closer to a grimace. "That's why I think you'll be a good fit for this. I'm going to partner you with an officer who is, well, difficult. He's a good guy, really, he's just very, uh, rough around the edges."

"I'm sure he's -"

The door flew open, barely missing Ian's shoulder. In stormed the angry guy from the locker room, scowl still etched in to his boyish features. 

"Wong says you wanted me on desk duty, and there's no way in hell I'm doing that."

Lt Jackson gestured to Ian, "Mickey, I'd like you to meet your new partner. You're not on desk duty, though you would have been if not for him since no one wants to partner with you."

Mickey rolled his eyes, "'Cause they're a bunch of pussies."

He turned to Ian, blue eyes scanning him from head to toe. Ian held out his hand, which Mickey scoffed at before turning away and walking out of the office.

Ian looked over at Sheila, "Well, he's pleasant."

She sighed, shrugging her shoulders, "He really is good at his job. He's our intimidator, but he can get a little carried away."

Ian snorted, "I can imagine." 


	2. Chapter 2

Ian never thought he'd be so happy to be called to a murder. 

Most of his morning had been spent at his desk, across from Mickey, scrolling thru his Facebook and trying to ignore the weight of the other man's gaze. He was pretty sure if something didn't happen soon, a hole would start to appear on the top of his head.

"You Lip's brother?" Mickey asked suddenly.

Ian nodded, not looking up.

When the call came in, he practically leapt out of his chair. He pulled his keys out of the drawer, only to hear Mickey snort.

"You ain't driving, fire crotch." He said, holding out his hand.

Ian tilted his head, "Are we taking your car?"

"Nope, I'm driving yours. You ain't lived here in years, things changed. It'll be solved before we get there if you drive. Keys."

Ian was in disbelief. Who the fuck was this guy? He started to ask him just that, when Mickey reached out and took his keys from his hand, turned and walked out without a backwards glance.

~~

"Jesus, what a mess," Mickey grumbled as they approached the body.

Spectators were gathered already, drawn by the police vehicles like moths to a flame. The officers were doing their best to keep the curious crowd at a safe distance, but this was a horrible scene and people couldn't help but be interested.

The blood was visible from yards away. A thick, dark pool, with steaks leading to the body, which made Ian's stomach turn.

"Fuck," Ian muttered as he took it all in.

The woman was nude, flat on her back, arms crossed over her chest. The heels of her feet were caked with grime and blood, showing where she was dragged further under the bridge. The most shocking part of this scene wasn't even the gaping hole in her throat, it was her face.

Not a single drop of blood was on this woman's face. Her make up was perfect, not even her lipstick was smudged. Her long blonde hair was draped across her shoulders, barely covering the tops of her heavily bruised breasts. The detail that was put in to this was like someone prepping a model for a photo shoot...

A voice by Ian's ear made him jump.

"Sick fuck did her makeup after she was dead."

Lip stood next to him, camera in hand.

"Yeah, I saw that too. Any ID on the victim?"

Lip shook his head, raising his camera to snap a picture.

"She went by Candy," Mickey said, squatting down to move her hair with a gloved hand.

As he swept the hair away from her skin, a small tattoo of a lollipop and a wrapped peppermint candy was revealed, right on the edge of her clavicle.

"How'd you know her?" Ian asked.

Mickey stayed silent, staring down at her with that stony grimace that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face. 

~~

From his vantage point in the crowd, he could see just about everything. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, studying the faces of the detectives milling around the crime scene. His fingers played with the smooth charm on a necklace is his pocket, the delicate metal warmed by his touch. 

She had been so beautiful when he left her, rivelets of blood trickling slowly down the smooth skin. A little got in her hair, but it was enough to overlook. His stomach was alight with fluttering as he thought of her, and he itched to look thru the photos he had taken.

He stayed in the crowd, unable to tear his eyes away, until she was loaded up in the body bag and gone from his sight.


	3. Chapter 3

By the end of the week, Ian's patience toward his partner had worn thin.

He was rude, harsh, loud, and sometimes just downright hateful. 

All week, they had been questioning the friends and family of Candy, their murder victim, and all week, Mickey had been intolerable. What was worse, most of the other sex workers they spoke with, which had been almost all of Candy's friends, refused to speak if Ian was in the room.

For whatever reason, these girls would only speak to Mickey. With them, he was an almost completely different person. His voice never raised once, hardly any profanity. He almost sounded _kind_.

When Ian tried to ask some of his co-workers, they just shook their heads in dismissal.

"Getting too deep in Milkovich's business will mess you up kid, best to just drop it," Detective Ball said, shrugging her shoulders, "Best just to let him do him. As his partner, you're basically his babysitter. He's too good at his job to let him go, you're mostly around to keep an eye on him and be the 'good cop' to his 'bad cop'."

Ian had grumbled, but didn't have much of a response.

Clocking out that Sunday evening, Ian was drained. They were no closer to finding Candy's killer and Ian had to forcibly remove Mickey when they were interrogating the boyfriend.

That did not go over well. Mickey had been right in the guy's face, who was clearly distraught over the pictures of his now-deceased girlfriend.

"Who'd you pimp her out to, huh? 'Cause whoever that sick fuck was, did this to her. Give me a name pu-"

Ian had looped his arm around the other man's waist right as he reached for the man's shirt. Being much taller, it wasn't hard for Ian to lift his feet off the ground and place him outside of the room before slamming the door in his face. It happened so quickly, Mickey seemed to have not even realized what happened until the door was closing.

The man seemed to collapse in the silence that followed in Mickey's absence. He swore over and over he had no idea who it was, that he wasn't responsible, he thought she was just dancing at the strip club. 

When Ian had left the room, the man still sobbing in his chair, he had to duck, heavy fist missing his head by mere inches.

"Don't you _ever_ pull that shit with me again, Gallagher. I will rock that ginger head of yours, you hear me?"

He had been icy ever since.

It wasn't until Ian stretched out across his bed that he let himself relax. He had two whole days to unwind and mentally prepare himself to go back and deal with the headache that was Mickey Milkovich.


End file.
